


Gunpowder and Flower Petals

by SpiritChilde



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Flowers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Self-Insert, flowershop, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-07-20 01:24:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritChilde/pseuds/SpiritChilde
Summary: Magic is you life, it exists in everything around you. Especially in nature, flowers blooming in your hair and at your will. A fateful day brings Dante into your flowershop, blossoming a romance between you both through a struggle to overcome your pasts.





	1. Sunlight and Rose Petals

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone wanted a dante fic, so have some flowershop fluff

_ Chapter One _

_~Sunlight and Rose Petals~_

Ever since you were a little girl, nature had its way of...speaking to you.

Nothing else really quite compared to it. Not to the way dandelions would hum with vitality and life, how roses tended to sigh and shudder under your fingertips. Morning glories always whispered their hellos from your balcony during every sunrise, and moon flowers giggled once it began to set. It filled your life with such unbelievable joy, one that was not lost on your mother once she noticed petals drifting occasionally from your hair, or how seeds would automatically sprout in your hand. As a botanical witch herself, seeing how nature embraced a child like you made her heart soar with delight and promise. She started your teachings at an early age, opening your eyes to the wonders and prospects of magic. 

As for your father...he was never in the picture. After witnessing your mother cast magic for a single time, he left without so much as a word. She reasoned that this was for the best, and determined herself more than capable to take care of you once the time came. After all, him leaving was better than someone fearing magic being in your lives. Delusion and innocence had clouded the young witch’s eyes, convincing you mother that maybe she could tell your father when the time came. It was pointless after that day. She would not change herself to meet his bigotry, and you were deserving of a life filled with the wonders of spell casting.

Despite him not being there, your childhood had been so bright. Living in a small town, helping your mother grown herbs in window boxes and vegetables in the garden. Fields of poppies would bloom as you ran through, seedlings had an inexplicable chance of blossoming in your hair. _Whimsical, enchanting._ You carried the scent of flowers in your wake, even to this day. It was in those times that you learned the cycle of respect between nature and a witch, the process of which to enrich a flower or plant with life and gain their respect in return. Those same flora provided back in kind, more than eager to continue their cycle as a spell or nutrition for those who were kind to them. The sun would rise and fall, and your mother would whisper her thanks and gratitude to every plant she used in each task she needed. You had always been in awe of her, how the flowers were more than happy to give up their petals to her potions and powders.

With each passing day, your magic and knowledge grew until you were ten years old, when...well. Tragedy stuck, and as always, it struck in ways you would never expect.

Demons attacked your little town in the woods, razing everything they touched to ash. You would never forget waking to the screaming of your neighbors, of the silent shrieking of plants as they were scorched into nothingness. There had been smoke, a scent so foul it made your little eyes water and throat sting like nothing else before. Glowing embers made patterns in the dark air, drifting like the pollen that had grown so precious and wonderful in you life. 

You remember lurching from your bed, crying hoarsely for your mother even as the vines on your balcony frantically dragged you out of the house before they had a chance to burn. They deposited you safely on the ground outside, just as a small group of your neighbors rushed over to pull you away. Mrs.Davenport, the closest to your mother, had held you in a protective embrace, her heart pounding frantically as they piled into a vehicle and sped away from the rising flames. 

Your mother would have never been able to make it out of the house. Not with magic, not with plants. She was in the basement working on a project when the first flames had shot through the windows, and was trapped on all sides. At least...that was according to Mrs.Davenport’s husband, who went back to check for any sign of her once everything was said and done. After that day, after the funeral for all who were lost...you sat alone in a little room above the Davenport’s shop in the city, a single handful of seedlings in your pocket and an ache in your heart that would never fade.

But the Davenports were kind, and took you in with open arms. Despite losing their home and store in town, the one they held on the edge of the city made enough to keep them going. The apartment above was renovated into a new living space, and you spent your time learning how to help out in any way you could. In the shop, at home, and with the only skills you had left to give. During this time the rosebuds in your hair were closed and dull, echoing your grief and uncertainty loud and clear to the outside world. But in time...they would bloom again.

Things were not always without turmoil. Being a witch’s child growing up in a place beyond the safety of that town proved difficult. The small, private classes from some of the mothers who lived nearby with children of their own were far more understanding and accepting of magic. After all, a lot of their medicines and tonics came from your home. The same could not be said when you were enrolled in public school, hair full of rose petals and an naive air of whimsy following your every step. Children were not ignorant of outsiders, sensing something about you was off from day one. 

Young ones could be so cruel sometimes.

Teachers too. School was a hard time, rife with bullying and ridicule from all sides. The first time you performed magic in class, the teacher was heavily alarmed and immediately drew you out of the class for scolding. It had seemed so innocent at the time--making flowers sprout up from a handful of seedlings to give some classmates gifts. The Davenports were called, and you were almost expelled from the grade school there and then. After pleading, begging, promises that no more magic would be performed...you were allowed to stay. But the damage had been done, on all sides. The teacher never looked at you the same way after that, and neither did the children.

An important lesson was learned that day. Magic was not the wonderful, beautiful thing you had always been taught. For some it was something ugly, a thing to fear and ridicule. Growing up in that environment left lasting damage on your confidence, damage that took years to truly shake. The flowers didn’t bloom in your hair that often then, magic harder to cast and you finding yourself trying desperately to fit in. But...is this what your mother truly wanted? For you to bow your head and smoother all the beautiful things she had given you, the teachings she held so dear?

You spent a lot of time thinking about her words, shaking off the cloud that had plagued you for so many years of school. Balance could be found, control must be had. If people could not understand the beauty and wonders of magic without fear, the only way to change anything was to teach them. Even if it had to be secret, even if you had to hide it until out of school.

You had so much kindness to give, after all. 

After graduating high school, the Davenports encouraged you to sell the flowers that you cultivated in window boxes, in pots all over your room. They insisted that you keep every bit you made, and soon a reputation with the customers began to thrive. Your flowers took much longer to wilt that normal ones, and bloomed bigger and brighter. The roses smelled stronger, the peonies sweeter. Valentine’s day became a busy time for the shop, filled with eager men looking for bouquets for their lovers and family searching for flowers to gift to their children, parents, grandparents...You developed an adoration for every person you met, heart full and welcoming for each new face and smile.

And the flowers sold each time, absorbing the eagerness of their new owners and coming with a small note on how to properly care for them.

Each person who bought a flower left with the knowledge of how to respect them, just as your mother taught you. The plants understood their purpose, silent but filling you with their energies of delight and pride. Because at the end of the day, all nature wanted was a purpose and kindness in turn.

You found your calling there, Mister Davenport helping create a greenhouse in the backyard for your needs. They grew old in time, and both decided that when they retired, the shop would be converted over fully into a Botanical business instead. Tears were shed that day, ones of gratitude and sorrow as you remembered what was lost, what had been gained. How lucky you had been, to have such lovely human beings there to support you, from the moment you took your first breath to when you thought fire and demons would take it all away. Neither of your mother’s friends had to help you, but did it anyway. And for that, you owed them everything and more. 

Especially on days like these, when everything was perfect.

A smile was always on your face as you flitted around the shop, saying your “good morning”s to the flowers and making sure each had water and their needed nutrients. The wide, open shop windows allowed sunlight to dapple each petal, unfurling the morning glories with droplets of water dripping from them like dew. The bouquets were arranged for orders taken, hanging pots casting shadows and their vines occasionally brushing the top of your head. Mornings were always so spellbinding--everything felt alive, humming with their silent energies and filling you to the brim with positivity. Even the seedlings that bloomed in your hair radiated an air of being pleased, one curling around your left ear like it intended to whisper to you.

The shop bells jingled with each new customer, you smiling at familiar faces and new ones in kind with a cheerful, “Good morning! How can I assist you today?”

It was springtime, right around when people were getting married and having babies. Lots of requests for pink bouquets, blues, whites. Orchids and roses, lilies and tulips. When the shop grew quiet you would sneak to the greenhouse to put spells on the gardens, adding new seeds for flowers you were running short on. A little magic, a little care...they never took long to grow, everything would be ready for the following morning.

This was your life, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Around noon you set about weaving dandelions and mini carnations into flower crowns, smiling when you saw the usual bees hanging around your window boxes. There was water out there for them and passing birds, plus you made sure to plant things they would like. There was something very cute about seeing their little pollen-covered butts wiggle around in the flowerbed. Regular customers had long grown used to them, respecting the art they played in keeping flowers alive.

Maybe you should start beekeeping? Was there room for bee boxes in the yard? Being this far out on the edge of the city, there weren’t really any businesses that would be bothered by it.

You were drifting in and out of your musing when a familiar face came through the door, the resulting bell making your eyes lift from their task.

“Morning, Y/N!” Greeted Alex, grinning from ear to ear as he slid by the counter on the way to where the lilies were displayed. He owned a little bakery a few streets over--you thoroughly enjoyed stopping by the corner deli first, then grabbing sweets from them on the way back , “See you’re working hard as always. What’s on your agenda for today?”

You chuckled, lifting up one of your finished crowns to display it proudly to his curious eyes, “Crowns. They’re getting popular on social media,” You set the item down, shaking a few loose petals from your silken locks as you added playfully, “Picking up lilies for your darling again? Like clockwork, every week. I don’t know where you’re putting them.”

He chuckled at that, seeming grateful when you came around the counter to help him wrap a small bouquet. The flowers’ energy reached out for you, the magic toiling through your veins responding in kind.

“We plant them in our garden to be honest,” He admitted, scratching the back of his head sheepishly at your delighted look, “I don’t get it, didn’t think they would just bloom if we planted them like that, but...your flowers are really somethin’ special.”

They most certainly were. Infused with magic, filled to the brim with possibilities they wouldn’t otherwise have. But he didn’t need to know that, not yet at least--there was no telling how he would react otherwise. You wondered belatedly what kind of honey would yield from magic flowers, especially with the kind of magic you used. Healing properties, maybe? It was just another thing to add to the list.

Regardless, you grinned, wrapping the stems gently in plastic before exchanging them for his money, “They do that because you treat them with kindness--honestly it makes me really happy to imagine your yard filled to the brim with all the lilies you’ve bought the past few months.”

Alex laughed lightly, little winkles appearing around his eyes when he smiled so brightly, “Bella loves it to pieces, so I can’t really say no,” His eyes drifted to the door when a few more customers entered, the familiar man waving with his free hand as he added, “See you next week, Y/N! Swing by the bakery sometime, we’ve got some seasonal fruits coming in so I’ll make sure we whip up something special!” 

You waved goodbye, smiling cheerfully as you went to greet the next couple of customers. You would definitely have to stop by the bakery again soon, it had been too long since the last order of creme puffs you had.

Regardless, you focused on the next people in need of assistance--Familiar faces as well, regulars who bought bouquets to put on tables in catering events. They had an order to be picked up, one scheduled long in advance and sitting in the greenhouse waiting for them. The crowns could wait for something so important, surely. And after these orders were taken there was only two more meant to be taken that day. Plenty of time to tend to the new flowers, to take care of whatever customers come in then close down around six or seven o’clock. 

So distracted with helping these customers get their order, you didn’t notice a new face walk in. 

It wasn’t until you started hurrying back to the front of the store with boxes of pre-made vases in tow did you realize someone had entered, figure wandering on the edge of the shop and idly gazing at the masses of roses. You spared a brief glance from over the budding flowers obscuring your vision, hurrying to set the box in the back of the customer’s van outside. That wasn’t one of your regulars, was it? White hair, broad shoulders, tall...wearing a red leather jacket and dark jeans. Definitely not the usual type to peruse a flower shop in the middle of the afternoon. Not that you cast any judgement--anyone could love nature, so maybe this person was simply finding a new passion for roses? Regardless, you hurried on, feeling a bit bad that you didn’t hear the bell over the door jingle at all.

“I’ll be right with you!” The familiar words carried easily over the shop as you rushed past, voice friendly and sweet. The stranger half turned in your direction, but you didn’t get to see their face past the white hair draping over one side. 

He simply lifted one hand in a light acknowledgement of you, voice deep and slightly bemused as he replied, “Take your time.”

If there was one thing you didn’t like doing, it was keeping customers waiting. The box of flowers was deposited in the van quickly enough, papers signed and thanks given for their purchase. The beautiful displays of lilac and lilies will make for lovely centerpieces for whatever gathering they’d be hosting, that was for certain--plus they would stay vibrant and lively, blessed with good fortune and radiating a heavenly scent. Your magic made sure of that, and when the blossoms eventually wilted it would disperse the magic safely into the air and bring good energy to whatever space they were kept in.

You made sure the buyers were all set up and pulling away before rushing back into the shop, a bit anxious about making a good first impression on this new customer. Luckily, he was still there by the rose display. Back turned, shoulders occasionally rolling as he browsed the selection. Goodness, he was certainly tall...and big. Well, compared to you at least. Height wasn’t something you were blessed to have a lot of, but it never really bothered you. It was just slightly intimidating to be facing someone like this stranger, one who dwarfed you so obviously in size and stature. He...carried a strange energy too, one that made you pause and frown at his back.

What is that feeling? Surely you felt it before, but...it was very muted, like diluted by water. His scent felt human again, almost like whatever you sensed had passed.

You shook the feeling off, approaching him finally and managing a soft smile as you greeted, “I’m so sorry about the wait, is there anything I can help you find?”

The stranger paused, turning finally to look at your form standing patiently behind his own. He was... _oh._ You blinked, feeling a bit flustered upon seeing this man’s face. Handsome, with strong features and a wry smile on his lips. He was a bit unshaven, facial hair white where it lined his strong jaw and chin. If you didn’t have a type before, you surely had one now upon meeting the stranger who had been so interested in roses--it suited him, you decided that already. He seemed like a roses type of guy, it mingled well with the rugged energy surrounding his body and limbs. The smile he greeted you with seemed to pause when he saw your face, lips popping open and a mix of emotions flitting across his features. 

What was going on with that? He seemed surprised for a second, taken aback, then a bit nervous and fidgety as his smile became a bit more...rueful? 

He was hard to read, and you were already nervous.

“Er...It’s no problem, miss,” He replied in that warm voice, scratching the back of his head a bit and half turning his face away, “Just...ah. Someone mentioned to me that your shop was the best place to get roses.”

You blinked, staring at the man without realizing it. Embarrassment colored your cheeks a bit pink, your mind desperately trying to shake whatever daze had come over you and find a response to his statement.

“They...sent you to the right place,” You finally managed, lips curling softly as you brushed past him for the display of flowers. A handful of petals fell from your hair as you did so, landing on his black boots in a sharp contrast of color. _I need to calm down_ , you told yourself meekly, heart stuttering in your chest, _the magic is causing anomalies with my hair again_ , “Is there a particular color you’re looking for or may need?”

The stranger seemed fascinated by the little pink petals that dotted his boots, a bemused smirk growing on his lips again as he plucked one out of the air before it fell. Something about the action made you swallow, face starting to resemble that shade the flowers were.

“Red,” He replied to your question, quirking a grey brow as he rubbed the thin flower petal between his fingers, “I’m a simple man with simple needs, what can I say?”

You nodded a couple times, eyes peeling off of him long enough to slide over to the lovely red roses sitting in a patch of sunlight near the window. Water still glistened from when you watered them earlier, making the petals glimmer like diamonds. They were a fresh batch too, radiating a sultry energy and filled to the brim with your magic care and adoration. They were a plant based around romance, so your mood and eagerness was easily sensed considering how connected to you they were. The remaining few that hadn’t bloomed fully yet finally did so, curling out in front of the stranger’s eyes as he prepared to pluck some from their container. Oh dear, he definitely saw that, didn’t he? 

Your gaze flickered to the man in question, anxiety making a home in your features as you gauge his reaction. But he didn’t seem bothered, merely fascinated and bemused as he took in their sudden growth.

“How many would you like?” Your voice asked softly, despite how absolutely nervous you felt. What was wrong with you? Many handsome or beautiful customers had come in before without issue, so why was this one managing to get you so flustered? It was inexplicable, and definitely outside the realm of normality. But...you found yourself not upset by it, excitement curling in your gut as you met his light gaze again with a hesitant one of your own.

Locking eyes sent a shiver down your spine, heart doing the most unbelievable things in your chest. 

“Uh…” He cleared his throat again, seeming to lose whatever train of thought was going through his head, “Oh...a dozen. Just twelve should be enough for now. If they’re as great as people told me, I’ll come back and get more, right?.”

Oddly enough...you desperately hoped that would be the case. A hint of a giddy smile formed on your lips, head ducking down to hide it as you retrieved some paper and plastic to wrap the flowers in, “Certainly, sir. Roses are really beautiful, loyal flowers so they will last for a while,” You set about carefully setting them up as you spoke, eyes locked on the water gently rolling from their petals as you asked, “If I may ask...what are you using them for? Are they a gift, perhaps?”

This was something you generally always liked to hear about from customers, he was no exception. But...asking him still felt strange somehow, like you were breaching a realm of privacy for information you hadn’t earned. Definitely not asking to discover if he had a wife or girlfriend, that was rude and inappropriate. Just thinking about it made you want to pull up your turtleneck and hide your face from his eyes, hide away from everything. As it stood, your finger slipped on the stem of a rose as the thoughts went awry, pricking your finger on a stray thorn that hadn’t been fixed earlier. A hiss escaped your lips, instinctively tugging your hand away to pop the injured digit into your mouth. 

The roses radiated apologetic energy, sensing what had happened and not liking it in kind.

“You okay?” The man asked, a frown marring his features as he stared at the bead of blood forming on your skin. Seemingly without thinking, he reached out to grasp your wrist with a gentle hand, pulling a bit closer for inspection. Just that action alone sent a tingle of energy along your arm, face going a bit red at the unexpected touch.

 _Oh dear._ The flowers in your hair trembled, more petals falling from the silken locks.

He was not immune--the man blinking, seeming to realize a second later what he had done and dropping your limb like it had burned him. He raised both hands in a gesture of apology, taking a measured step back, a hint of embarrassment in his expression.

“Shit--sorry, I didn’t mean to just grab at ya like that,” He apologized immediately, dropping his arms and letting out a gusty sigh, “You just hurt yourself, and I didn’t really--”

“It’s okay…!” You blurted out suddenly, cutting off whatever he was going to say. It made him blink, staring at you with surprise as your gazed met once more. More petals, a vine curled under your ear slightly. _Oh no, I’m getting too emotional, too nervous, too excited_ \--your face was far too warm, especially when you tugged the turtleneck up a bit to hide the vines creeping around your neck. 

“U...um…” You murmured, feeling completely obvious under his steady blue eyes and hating yourself thoroughly. He couldn’t see the magic, couldn’t know about that. You had spent far too long being careful to make slip-ups like these. But...why was your mouth still moving?

“It’s okay. I...didn’t mind, not really,” You peeked up from the turtleneck, fidgeting at the surprised expression he still had on, “My name is Y/N, by the way...I usually tell customers that right away but I think I forgot to with you. Or did I? Oh dear...I’m sorry.”

 _I’m a mess, an absolute disaster._ Why was it so hard to form coherent sentences around him? You had gone from being steadfast and confident one moment to a bumbling fool the next, which honestly was...typical. Emotions ran high on even your best days, which came with the territory of being a witch. Controlling them was by far the hardest thing to do, right at the top of the list of skills she hadn’t quite mastered. All it served to do was make her miss the mother she so adored--full of poise, calm in even the darkest moments and able to control her magic like breathing. Mrs. Davenport said that even when her father left, the woman never shed a single tear for his absence. 

Regardless, you shook off the wistful nostalgia, turning your gaze away from his when a low, crooked grin tilted his lips at your red face. He seemed to be enjoying it far too much. 

“You didn’t tell me your name yet, sunshine, so don’t worry too much on that end of things,” He chuckled, the sound washing over your ears in the most pleasant manner possible, “Though it was rude of me to manhandle a pretty girl without askin’, even if you don’t mind.”

 _Sunshine. Pretty girl._ The words stuck to your skull like glue, making you downright dizzy as you tried to process it. This wasn’t the first time someone called you pretty, right? Several customers had come in and made such observances, both in a romantic subtext and not. All of the former variety were politely turned down, you just didn’t have the time or the shared attraction worth following through with. 

But this person...something about him made your heart flutter, pounding against your ribs and bringing out every flustered, easily embarrassed part of you. And he clearly wasn’t oblivious to it--the man smirked when he caught the surprise in your expression at his cute nickname, fidgeting under his stare and resisting the urge to hide your face entirely. This is all too much.

“D...don’t worry about it,” You squeaked, the sound coming out a bit breathless even to your ears as you turned back toward the roses. Frantically trying to tuck a loose vine behind your ear, silently urging the flowers to calm down as you added, “Wh...what is your name, if I may ask?”

He let out a low hum at your question, eyes turning toward your task as you wrapped the roses in a final layer of plastic. Something about him hovering over your shoulder as you finished his order...well. It made you very flustered indeed.

“Dante,” The man, Dante, finally replied to your question, offering you a charming smile on top of it all. But that soon faded, especially when he cleared his throat and added hesitantly to his statement, “And to what you asked earlier, roses were...well. They were my mother’s favorite flower before she passed, so...I keep some with me at all times in honor of her.”

 _Oh_. His response made your heart ache on his behalf, excitement draining into something a little more forlorn and sympathetic as your hands gentled a bit in their duty. His tone was so wistful, border-lining on a little sad as he mentioned the parent he had lost. In an instant you felt a kinship with this man you didn’t know, wanting to comfort him in any way you could. One hand rested on the package of roses, crinkling the material slightly as you closed your eyes.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Your voice was soft, gentle as you thought back to the loss of your own mother, that dark day in town with the flames rising in your home, “I lost my mother too...a long time ago. It can be a very hard thing to go through.”

He sucked in a slight breath at your words, pausing like he was surprised to even hear them. You turned your gaze to meet his again, seeing a hint of shock and sympathy now echoed in his eyes right back. A look of regret, of exhaustion and heartache that made your own chest hurt in a strange way. The mood in the air shifted in an instant, your magic sensing ever ounce of grief that seeped into his energy aura that told you everything that you needed to know about him. Trauma, sorrow, exhaustion, anger...he had been through something terrible, hadn’t he? It showed on his face, that smile shifting into something deeply sorrowful at the sound of your own pain.

_Oh no...I made him sad._

“Damn...I’m sorry, Y/N,” He replied, sounding gruff and a bit apologetic as he scratched the back of his white hair, “I didn’t mean to bring the mood down. I have a habit of putting my foot in my mouth when I probably shouldn’t.”

“Oh no!” You protested immediately, turning to stare at him with the roses cradled gingerly in your arms, “Please, don’t apologize for anything Dante. I don’t mind at all,” A small smile tilted your lips, cheeks still a bit flushed from his earlier comments, “There’s no shame in opening up to someone about your past, never doubt that. I’m always happy to listen if you need it.”

Your words surprised him further, his gaze lingering on yours with an unidentified emotion lingering in its depths. Whatever it was...your stomach did somersaults at the sight, making you turn away and hurry toward the counter to give you a chance to breathe a bit. _Oh dear. Oh my,_ this man was a whirlwind on your emotions, stirring up things that a stranger absolutely shouldn’t have the power to stir up. You tried not to focus on it, summoning forth another smile as the price for his roses was tallied up. A little shaved off for making him wait in the store for so long while the other order was processed of course. 

He strolled up to the corner after you, watching with curious eyes as you made sure to attach the needed items to take care of roses to the wrappings. A little note too, thanking him for his purchase.

As soon as he saw the total, one eyebrow quirked up in surprise, “That’s all?” He sounded doubtful of the low price, pulling out a leather wallet from his pocket and eyeing you suspiciously.

You nodded, graciously accepting the offered bill and depositing it in the cash register as you replied, “Yep. Consider it an apology for forcing you to wait outside so long earlier--its rude to do that to first time customers.”

He let out a little “huh” at that, cocking his head a bit to examine you as he gathered up the bouquet of fresh roses. Something about his scrutinizing gaze made you blush further, that color returning to your cheeks as his change was handed back. Your fingers brushed at the action, making you shiver again before pulling away and trying to find some semblance of sanity again. _Calm down, it’s rude to act like this to strangers._ You resisted the urge to bite your lip, trying to gather all the nervous attraction and bottle it down inside. As if that would somehow fix anything, which you knew damn well it wouldn’t.

Already you were hoping he would come back. Already hoping your roses were up to his standards. It felt a bit pathetic really, wanting to get to know someone this badly just from one interaction. Maybe you were just lonely? After the Davenports moved out to their retirement home, you lived above the shop alone and worked hard every day without fail. It was just all that neediness talking, that was it.

Wasn’t it?

“Thank you for coming by, Dante,” You said softly, playing with a strand of your hair and lifting your eyes to see his again, “I...I hope you like the roses. Don’t hesitate to stop by again, okay?” 

That made him smile, that crooked smirk causing your stomach to feel like it was spinning in circles. A low chuckle left his lips, eyes lingering on your hair for a moment as he reached out one hand. Your heart nearly stopped, breath pausing in your throat as he plucked a stray petal from your locks with his free hand. You blinked owlishly, cheeks warming more as he rubbed it between his digits and felt its soft texture.

“You’ll definitely be seeing me again, Sunshine,” He replied, an amused grin tilting his lips as he took in your flushed face, “Might invite you out to coffee next time too, if you’d allow it?”

_Oh. OH._

You squeaked, hands grasping the edges of your turtleneck as you replied in a stammer, “O..oh! I’d...I’d like that, yes...absolutely…!” Far too eager, far too happy about his request in the first place.

But he didn’t seem to mind, giving you a two finger salute before he turned to head out the door again. You watched him as he went, heart pounding in your chest even until the bell jingled above the door to sound his departure. It wasn’t until he was completely out the door that all the emotion finally burst forth, a sense of embarrassed excitement causing you to hide your face in the turtleneck and squeak softly. It was a good thing there were no more customers in the store at that moment, because the flowers in your hair sprouted even more and dropped far too many petals in a little halo around you on the floor.

“ _Oh god_ …” You mumbled, holding your overly warm face in your hands as the remaining traces of nervous attraction refused to be shaken off.

“Did that...just really happen?”


	2. Chapter Two: Coffee Creamer and Tea Leaves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies--heres chapter two for your viewing pleasure

_Chapter Two_

_~Coffee Creamer and Tea Leaves~_

Closing down your shop for the day was...an event.

The afternoon is usually rife with customers, people sneaking by the shop to get gifts for their spouses or partners before heading home from work. Many of those you always call those “apology flowers”--it was fitting, because most come through the door with an air of someone seeking to apologize. Husbands who argue with their wives before work and regret it all day, partners who forget anniversaries and scramble to make up for it with a lovely bouquet. The latter was a bit adorable--it was kind of cute seeing some flustered human being come through the door and try to gather together a makeshift present, begging for the best flower combination for anniversaries or birthdays. Maybe it wasn’t any of your business to interfere, but each flower was sent out with the hopes that it might make someone’s day a bit better, a little more bright.

But that was only one half of the day. The other was spent with you flustered on your own, pattering about the store and leaving a trail of flower petals in your wake to constantly clean. At some point the shop romba was turned on to constantly keep up with the mess, customers making sure to be mindful of it at all times. Better than someone walking in and slipping on a pile of petals. A lawsuit was definitely not something you needed to top off the day, but the flowers in your hair _would not stop._ By the day’s end orchids were blooming in the curls, an occasional vine caressing your face like a lovers touch. And how fitting, considering what was keeping things so distracting--the encounter with Dante had not left your thoughts, his handsome face and coy smile causing the most unbelievable excitement and nervousness.

When would he return to your shop?

You realized belatedly that he gave to set day, which was a bit disappointing to be completely honest. Would it take days? _Weeks?_ The flowers lasted so long, _so very long_ , at for once that brought along dismay and anxiousness. Would he only return when the roses finally wilted? Christ, if he took care of them that wouldn’t be for ages. Your own skill and magic was becoming your undoing, mind bouncing between the math and how magic infused they were with a sense of guilt. You didn’t want the flowers to just die, they mattered to you and were so very important. Every bouquet that left deserved enough time to serve its purpose, to find happiness and give happiness in kind. Wanting anything less was incredibly selfish.

It was on this thought that you finally closed shop in the late afternoon, locks sliding into place around six and the remaining tasks before the next day already finished. New seedlings were planted, bouquets made, orders cataloged...but this only left you alone with those thoughts, all distraction attempts exhausted. Once the door was closed a heavy sigh left your lips, head leaning on glass panes and cheeks so very warm. People had asked you on dates before, hadn’t they? Many, many times. This was the only one you had actually contemplated, feeling such an unbelievable attraction that there was not even attempt to say no. Too flustered to try and get an exact date, too flustered to learn more.

“I should have asked,” You whimpered quietly, covering your face with both hands and feeling more flowers patter down your back, _“Why didn’t I ask?”_

Waiting was surely going to kill you.

Dante seemed a bit unconventional with how he went about dating, that was for sure. Like he was trying to leave all avenues open, not setting down any roots. Something about the thought made you feel a bit...sad, the mood following you upstairs as you prepared for the evenings rest. Spending years as a witch and serving the public had given a good sense of the aura’s customers carried with them, and Dante’s was a bit heavy. _Damaged_. Underneath what seemed to be a laid back, goofy exterior there was definitely a flicker of something exhausted in those pale blue eyes. You desperately hoped he would return, and not change his mind in the coming days. As it stood, you were preparing yourself not to see him again for at least a couple weeks, a strangely daunting task but one that needed to be done nonetheless.

Another sigh left your lips as you crossed the threshold into your quaint apartment above, the flowers settling down with your sadness and shoes slipped off at the door. A pleasant smell wafted through to your nostrils, the meal you had prepped in a crockpot previously in the day in its final stages of cooking. It was one of the only saving graces, the other being a familiar mew as little feet padded rapidly over the hardwood, snoot poking out to stare at you right as the door was shut. A tired smile tilted your lips, eyes meeting the blues of your cat Clover as she came bounding over to rub over your feet and ankles. Twitching her nose, meowing loudly for attention and purring up a storm. You felt leagues better immediately, scooping her up and cradling that soft, black-furred body to your face. 

“Hello my darling dear,” You mumbled, letting the cat curl around you shoulders and grinning when she rubbed her nose to your ear, “I didn’t see you in the shop today at all--what was keeping you so busy up here?”

She blinked slowly at you, a bit sleepy looking. The answer to your question was probably that her daily naps had extended throughout the day, or she was too busy making heart eyes at the cat next door. Their forbidden love was always a source of amusement. Regardless, the cat door installed on the apartment entrance allowed her to come and go downstairs as she pleased--Clover knew not to knock or break anything in the shop, and the customers found the little black cat absolutely charming. Was being a witch and having a black cat cliche? Maybe, but you didn’t really care.

She lingered lazily on your shoulders as a kettle was put on for chamomile tea, crock pot lid lifted to showcase a perfectly finished dish rife with vegetables and herbs. The scent made Clover’s little nose twitch, and your mouth water. 

Her meal came first, the cat immediately leaping off in excitement when a container of her cat food was pulled from the fridge. With all the resources at your disposal, making home made food for her was a lot easier--this weeks meal was Clover’s favorite, chicken and rice mixed with sweet potato. The latter was grown in your garden, providing a ton of nutrients and health benefits that kept her coat shiny and soft. Maybe going this extra mile for Clover was spoiling her a bit, but honestly with how much love and affection she gave in return you would never regret it.

The proper portion was set into a bowl for her, leaving you free retrieve the kettle and make the desired tea. It was a ritualistic process, pulling down the glass teapot and steeping the leaves slowly and carefully until no more water remained. Just the smell alone helped make you relax, emotions settling to a low simmer and heart rate finally, blessedly, back to normal. Clover scarfed down her food while you set up everything on a tray, heading to the small balcony looking out over the city and sitting down with a light sigh. One of the nearby flowerpots extended a vine to click on your tv, playing the evening news so you could listen while eating.

And like every evening...things were so peaceful. A gentle breeze to cool your food before it reached your mouth, tea perfectly steeped and sweetened by honey.

But you were still thinking about him. Dante.

A low groan left your lips, fork set down on the tray while you observed the purples and blues of the sky’s sunset. Clover had already finished eating, sensing something was up and bounding over to rest in your lap--her blue eyes were curious, eyes twitching back and forth as she pawed at the frills on your blouse. Seeing you so flustered must have been strange, and honestly you couldn’t fault the little black cat for such things. When had you ever become so undone, so absolutely smitten by one encounter with someone? Just the thought made you flush, burying your face in Clover’s fur and letting out another sigh. You knew nothing about this man, _nothing._ Allowing yourself to get so attached and dreamy after one encounter was such a big mistake.

One you didn’t regret in the slightest. Yet.

“Clover...I’m such a fool,” You mumbled, eyes squeezed shut and heart speeding up again as she let out an inquisitive trill, “What am I going to do? Dating someone as a witch would never work out...what if he sees my magic and runs?”

Just like your father did, all those years ago. Just the thought brought out uneasiness, emotions in a battle against everything life had taught you and everything your mother had instilled. She would have told you to pursue love, to try no matter what because there was so much inside you worthy of it, so much adoration to share. Despite what your father did, she never regretted loving him for a second, because it lead her to you after all. You wished that her confidence could be shared, her bravery--even after all these years, thinking of the advice she would give brought a hollow ache to your chest, that deep loneliness that came with the lack of her presence.

Clover sensed your sorrow, purring softly and tucking her face to the crook of your neck. It was a familiar comfort, one that brought you back to reality a bit as you stroked her soft fur.

“I’m okay,” You promised, eyes opening again to look out at the sky and see birds soaring by on their way to locations unknown, “I miss her, is all--she would have loved you a lot.”

Clover settled her small weight on your chest, little snorts of air tickling the bare skin she was pressed to. As a cat, she couldn’t really respond with words, but her aura said enough. _Loving, supportive, encouraging_...Clover was such a good familiar, a wonderful companion to have. Something about her presence seemed to make things calm considerably, your racing heart finding a nice middle ground with the reasonings your mother left behind. The only things you ever regretted were the ones that you never tried, never made an attempt for. It wasn’t fair to write off something like this mere hours after being offered. Mind you, the lack of solidity to this plan was...upsetting, but good things always came to those who were willing to wait. If the flowers felt good about Dante, you should too.

Clover curled up in your lap, seeming satisfied with your calmed emotions as you took a long sip of delicious tea. Staring down into its golden surface made you pause, the flower patterns at the bottom of your tea cup that of roses and their thorn stems. It sent that same thrill of excitement and nervousness down your spine, remembering the batch of that same flowers Dante had left the shop with. Well, your mother always did tell you that the universe had its ways of telling you things, didn’t she? Maybe it was best to let things flow as they were meant to.

You stared up at the light dying in the sky, a few more stray petals drifting out of your hair and onto Clover’s black head.

If Dante was to return, he would. And then...well. You would have to see, wouldn’t you?

_(Dante POV)_

Christ in heaven, he was a colossa _l fucking idiot._

His head had not left the surface of his desk for about an hour now, the hardwood leaving an imprint in his skin for certain. It was going on seven o’clock, the devil hunter exhausting every resource he had to distract himself from what an absolute jackass he had been during the day. Honestly, why couldn’t his brain form a single thought that wasn’t doused in a layer of stupid? The son of Sparda had never been the type to feel embarrassed by anything, or nervous for that matter. After years and years of risking his life, of fighting demons and overcoming lord knew how made obstacles thrown his way most things seemed absolutely trivial in his day to day life. Lights being shut off? Whatever, it happens. Surviving on a diet of pizza and ice cream? Both were great, and he had no incentive to change until now. In fact up until this very day he was content to live his life hunting demons and staring at beautiful women in magazine, convinced love and relationships were in the cups for him.

Until now, that is.

Seeing you had been like a bolt down his spine, freezing him in place scrambling to gather whatever semblance of sanity he had left. Sure, beautiful women always existed in his life--Lady and Trish were both lovely, but he had never felt an ounce of romantic inclination for either, Trish especially when she looked _like that_. So it was understandable that his own reaction to you was so shocking for himself, every other female encounter ending up with him shot or injured in some way. To meet someone so gut-wrenchingly soft, someone so otherworldly lovely and pure...he never thought nervousness could exist in his gut anymore, but boy howdy it was there and alive, writhing and reminding him of every stupid thing said in your presence. Every mistake, every stuttered word.

You were like a fae in real life, soft and beautiful with flowers pinned to your hair. The way sunlight glinted off your locks had rendered him speechless, a floral scent clinging to your form like perfume that made him feel dizzy. Honestly, when was the last time he met someone with an otherworldly presence that wasn’t demonic? It was a breath of fresh air, your gentle smile and blushing face as you hid behind that turtleneck sending several of cupid’s arrows through his heart. It was all he could to not show how flustered he was visibly, barely maintaining a cool exterior as a thousand nervous, strange emotions raged inside. 

Dante never felt such immediate attraction to a woman before. Never. So how was he supposed to handle it?

Even as a child crushes hadn’t been a thing, too much stress and chaos keeping his life firmly rooted. So to have an experience like that now, in his forties? _Bad_. He didn’t even know how old you were, too spaced out to ask. For that matter, he offered a coffee date to you without even setting up a fucking date. Awful, terrible, _the worst._ How rude could he be, leaving without setting up any specifics and just carrying your name on his tongue, like a prayer he didn’t dare utter aloud outside the sanctuary of your shop. As if his mouth was somehow tainted, ready to bring all his sins crashing down on you. Things seemed so cut and dry in the moment, his mind not allowing him to leave until some new connection to you was made. But...thinking it through, how could he hope to bring you anywhere near a life like his?

_Too dangerous. Too terrible. But…_

Why was there so much doubt? All he could think of was your soft lips, tilting into a light smile and your eyes so very bright…

Dante groaned, hitting his head on the desk lightly a few times like it would somehow jar the thoughts out of his stubborn skull. So lost in his own self punishment, he didn’t notice Lady and Trish walking in through the double doors of his shop. Even when they both stopped in front of the desk, watching his pitiful display of woe and misery with confused eyes he still didn’t look up. How early was too early to go back to your shop? He couldn’t just keep you waiting for weeks without notice, that was so much worse. Would it be weird to call your shop phone, could he even handle the embarrassment of admitting he forgot to set up a date? And then that all encompassing question--should he even bother? Maybe it would be better to nip this in the bud before it bloomed more, the analogy hitting far too close to home.

But those roses sat on a vase mere inches away, the scent of them reminding Dante of you.

_I’m the biggest dumbass in the land._

Lady shook her head when he groaned again, adding a few more head thuds to the mix.

“You got me, Trish. I don’t know what’s up with numbnuts today myself,” She commented, finally making Dante pause and look up through the white curtain of his own hair. The fellow huntress was smirking in light amusement, leaning against his desk with both arms folded, “What’s got your panties in a twist, Dante? Gotta say, this is new even for you.”

Trish rolled her eyes, planting one hand on her hip as Dante gave an non-competitive grunt in response, “Did Vergil shit in your cheerios or something this morning?”

Wow, he hated that a lot. But shockingly Vergil had left him alone since he returned from the flower shop, sitting on a nearby couch with a book and content to let his brother simmer in whatever cloud had him in its grasp. In fact, in the past hour Vergil hadn’t said a word, so Dante could only imagine what his own face had looked like when he finally came back with those roses. Vergil had only raised a single brow when Dante set up the vase, lips firmly sealed shut all the way until his head hit the desk for that first time. Either he enjoyed his siblings suffering far too much to intervene, or he was curiously trying to see how long it would play out before Dante would say something about it. Vergil was stubborn like that, he would never be the first to engage conversation, always leaving that up to his other twin.

Problem was, Dante didn’t know what to say either.

He finally tilted his head up, chin resting on the desk as he stared at the two perplexed women with a forlorn expression. Another groan escaped his lips, tempered in self loathing as he replied to them, “I’m a big fucking dumbass is the issue...I need you both to talk me out of something.”

That certainly wasn’t the response they were expecting, but judging by the snort Vergil released he was in heavy agreement with his brother’s statement. 

Lady ignored him, idly playing with one of the rose’s petals as she stared at the red spot on Dante’s forehead from hitting his head, “Alright, I’ll bite. What are we talking you out of this time? A mission? A job? Spending money on something stupid?”

 _“No frivolous purchases._ ” Vergil hissed from the couch, finally raising his head from the book and skewering Dante with an icy stare. As if the sword in his hand pointed at his brother’s head wasn’t enough of a threat. The older Sparda definitely took his new role at Devil May Cry far too seriously, as much as it helped business.

It was just a shame that they were both still disasters in other matters. Like cooking and cleaning.

Regardless, Dante let out a hefty sigh, trying to stifle his own embarrassment and reluctance so he could communicate what was needed. Honestly, he couldn’t talk himself out of it after seeing your smile when asking you out to coffee, the way your cheeks and ears flushed that beautiful pink and a hint of delight entered your eyes. Flower petals had fallen from your hair onto the counter like snowfall, your skin soft and lovely when he had touched it. And...

 _Fuck._ He was just making this harder.

Swallowing his own pride, Dante let out a light sigh, eyes closing and tone glum as he muttered, “I need you...to convince me not to follow through with asking a woman out at the flower shop.”

Boy, if silence had a physical presence he was sure feeling it. 

He looked up to see Trish and Lady staring in various stages of shock, Lady’s brows practically touching her hairline and lips popped open. As for Vergil, he looked on with flat annoyance, like this was somehow exactly what he had feared would be the issue for someone like Dante, something silly and trivial. The women at least knew him for a while now, both knowing just how terrible his history with romance was. Hell, he rarely showed a molecule of interest for anyone who approached him with those sorts of intentions. Things were supposed to be fine as they were, he was perfectly content with dying alone, right?

_Right?_

Trish let out a low breath at his request, seeming at a loss for words as she pushed off from the desk. Heading for the kitchen, blonde hair swishing back and forth as she replied, “I’m going to need coffee for a conversation like this.” 

She disappeared around the corner, a low smirk of mischief growing on her lips. It was echoed by Lady, much to Dante’s growing foreboding as she leaned over the desk with heavy interest in her multi-colored eyes. That was definitely not the reaction he had been hoping for, feeling like this might have the opposite effect of what was intended. Lady looked like she was staring at a delicious gift, one that would most certainly not be passed up on in a lifetime. It occurred to Dante then that both women would definitely want details on all this madness, finding far too much enjoyment in seeming him flustered.

_Son of a bitch._

“I want details _right now,_ ” Lady demanded, sitting on the desk and crossing her legs as Dante leaned back and groaned again, “Spill it--who is this girl? When did you ask her out? Why don’t you wanna go on with it?”

He was just full of bad ideas that day, it would seem. This one was starting to take the cake. 

A sigh left his lips, head resting on his hands as Lady practically vibrated with excitement, “I take it back--nevermind, I’ll figure it out by myself.”

“No way!” Lady huffed in heavy complaint, flicking his forehead with hard fingers and staring with heavy disgust, “You don’t get to just do that--come on, give me some details and I’ll help you work things out, okay?”

A bit of genuine concern entered her tone near the end, reminding Dante that underneath all the mischief she did care about his well being. Seeing him in such a disaster state must not have been fun, in fact he was willing to bet Lady had never seen him so conflicted on anything. Vergil’s “death”, remembering the loss of his mother, the incidents of the Qliphoth tree...Everything else was so easy to bottle up inside, to keep his cool and play it off in an air of not caring. But with you...just thinking about your lips again made his face feel warm, one hand resting on his mouth and eyes darting to the side. And worse--Lady saw that light flush to his cheeks, her eyes going a tad wider and that sense of interest growing in spades.

 _“Come on!_ ” She practically whined, shaking him on the shoulder and staring pleadingly at him, “I just wanna help! This is killing me Dante, _killing me._ ”

 _“Fine!_ ” He sighed in heavy exasperation, pulling away from her insistent hand with firm disapproval in his expression, “Shit I don’t know...I just...went to her flower shop today to get roses.” Mentioning it aloud felt so strange, one hand carding through his hair and his words still muffled by his other one, “Kyrie mentioned that there was a great place to get roses, so I went there to buy a new set. And...well...met her there.”

By this point, Lady was looking absolutely riveted. Trish came next, passing by Vergil with a tray of coffee cups that she handed out to everyone in kind--minus the surly, spiky haired Sparda, of course. He didn’t seem perturbed, focusing back on his book and not seeming interested in the story being told. At least...that’s what it seemed like. But his cold eyes kept darting up briefly, disapproval in his expression as Dante relayed the day’s events. 

He gratefully took the cup of coffee from Trish, chugging half of the water contents down with a sense of relief--she still remembered how he took it, with cream and sugar.

“I’ve never seen you show interest in a woman outside of those shitty magazines,” She commented, setting her cup down on one with a face of disapproval, “So what’s the issue, Dante? You don’t get messed up over just anyone, yet you’re already throwing in the towel.”

Well shit. He didn’t exactly expect the two to take this seriously, but they clearly were. It made the devil hunter pause, scratching the back of his head and wondering just how to explain himself. Nothing really seemed to cover it, nor did anything really cover just how jarring the day had been. It all seemed so...silly now that he was back in Devil May Cry, surrounded by reality.

“Shit,” Dante muttered, trying to regain his usual air of calm as he thought over her question, “She’s just...soft, okay? Too soft to get involved with me, with flowers in her hair and not a single mean bone in her body. I told her the next time I stopped by I’d take her out for coffee, but what if she doesn’t even like coffee? Didn’t set up a proper date or anything, so I’m pretty fucking sure I should just shut this down before she gets disappointed.”

Trish rose a brow at that, seeming heavily skeptical as she sipped from her cup of coffee. Very loudly, over-exaggerated. 

“Well, you were right about being a dumbass,” She commented simply, tapping her nails on the side of the mug and shaking her head, “Can’t believe you asked the girl out and didn’t even solidify a date.”

 _“Fuck-_ -Don’t make me feel worse…!”

Dante pressed his head to the desk again, a low moan breaking from his throat while Trish and Lady snickered about it. Honestly, this was just par for the course for someone like him--many other encounters hadn’t been made with the smartest of choices, the devil hunter spewing whatever came to mind and ending up in a lot of fistfights. Hell, his first encounter with Nero, his own nephew, was fighting him in Fortuna. Not really the ideal scenario, but he had turned that around in the end, Nero now seeing him as a friend and business partner. At least...that’s what his uncle hoped, especially after so many years of interactions and fighting demons together. Even with Lady and Trish he hadn’t been the sharpest tool in the shed, but now were both on friendly speaking terms and no longer trying to kill each other.

Regardless, you weren’t like them. It wasn’t right to get someone so soft and innocent wrapped up in his bullshit, those types of actions weren’t likely to get you on comfortable terms with the devil hunter. Honestly he wouldn’t be shocked if you turned him down if or when he ever came back. It would be deserving with the behavior he showed, the complete stupidity. But the idea of earning your displeasure was just...very disappointing. Almost heartbreaking, and he didn’t know why. Surely it wouldn’t matter after just one interaction? Dante had moved on from a lot more than this, had brushed off tragedy and death a thousand times over. Why did this matter so much? Why was he still thinking about it?

Lady patted his head lightly, like a doting, sympathetic mother as she cooed, “There there...why don’t you go back tomorrow then and take her out? I bet she’d understand if you told her that you were just a bit flustered and forgot to set a day.”

They were encouraging this? _Why?_ Dante lifted his head lightly, a frown tilting down his lips as he met Lady’s amused gaze.

“Do you honestly think that’s a good idea?” He said in a doubtful tone, scratching the back of his white hair and looking away from the annoyed stare she gave in response, “Seriously, Lady. She’s not exactly the type who’s meant to be around someone like me.”

Trish rolled her eyes before Lady could reply, setting down the now-empty mug and skewering him in place with a solid glare. Dante _hated_ when she looked at him like that--it was way too close to be scolded by his mother, sending him right back to childhood in an instant. As far from Eva as Trish was, her appearance was still a painful thing to deal with from time to time. Not that he would ever admit it aloud--it was just another thing to swallow down, to deal with like as if it didn’t hurt him all that much. 

She crossed her arms again, blond hair spilling over one shoulder as she said sternly, “Didn’t think you the type to wallow in self pity like that, Dante. You’ll never know if she’s meant to be around you or not unless you actually put some spine into it,” Trish stood from the desk, taking a few of the empty mugs and setting them on the tray with a bit too much force, “Honestly? A woman in your life could do you some good--maybe this girl could tell you how to eat properly and take regular showers for once.”

Ouch, they were really going right for his eyebrows, weren’t they? Dante winced at the stinging statement, sniffing his jacket lightly to make sure he wasn’t releasing any sort of odor. Not that he could really tell, but doing so only made Trish sigh louder as she walked away in the kitchen’s direction. Vergil seemed less than pleased as well, finally closing his book with a firm snap and lifting his icy gaze to Dante’s face. Maybe him getting involved might finally be the one to talk him out of it? Surely Vergil wouldn’t want him to fall to such distractions, to keep him focused on missions and not bringing any soft, weak humans into the house? Dante was almost hopeful for some biting words from Vergil for once in his god damn life, but there seemed to be a higher power out to prove him wrong. 

Instead of bringing out the “weak human” card that Dante anticipated, Vergil let out an annoyed sigh, displeasure in every line of his face as he addressed his sibling, “To be a coward is to shame our father Sparda,” He said sharply, making Dante blink with his mouth agape, “Honestly? All this has proven is that you are far more disappointing than I had once perceived. Maybe utilize that single brain cell bouncing around your skull and think things through without pitying yourself.”

 _Are you fucking kidding?_ Vergil was getting in on this too? Dante stared in silent disbelief, unable to even feel insulted with just how astronomically fucked it sounded to have Vergil support anything that wasn’t related to business or power. 

_Can’t a single person talk me out of this today? Anyone?_

Lady let out a bark of a laugh at Vergil’s comment, pointing a finger at his face as she retorted, “There’s a single brain cell shared between you Sparda boys, Vergil. If you loan it to Dante, then what will you do for the week?”

His brother had the common decency to look aggravated, crossing his legs and staring back with a cold stare. But no reply was given, Vergil merely opening his book back up with his lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line. Lady snorted, turning back to Dante and lightly pinching his cheek, earning a low grunt as the son of Sparda tried to pull away from her sharp fingertips. Christ, there was a lot of manhandling going around that day, wasn’t there?

“Go see her tomorrow,” Lady commanded, tone holding no room for arguments as she finally released Dante’s abused face, “Bring a nice gift, take her to a cute little cafe and talk about stuff. Don’t blow this off because there’s no way in hell we can let you become one of those crusty old men who dies a virgin.”

Dante sighed softly, rubbing his cheek and raising a single brow at her comment, “Bold of you to assume I’m a virgin.”

“Bold of you to assume that I give a damn.”

That was fair. 

But despite the banter and his own hesitations...Dante nodded, staring down at the remaining mouthfuls of coffee waiting at the bottom of his glass and feeling absolutely stupid. All things considered, maybe he shouldn’t have made such a big fuss about things? Trish was right, he wasn’t a coward and this line of thinking was just him trying to avoid commitment, trying to keep newcomers away. Something about seeing your smile again made him feel...hopeful, filled with nervous anticipation. The scent of flowers, the sunlight glinting from those silken locks--More than anything, more than their encouragements Dante just wanted to see you again, wanted to know more about the girl behind that soft, adorable smile.

It was all he could think about as he swirled the remaining coffee in his glass, Lady and Trish’s discussions fading into the background as he contemplated what kind of gift to bring, what you would even like.

Because lord knew he certainly couldn’t bring flowers.


	3. Calloused palms and Delicate Fingers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uhhh....I have no excuses for how late out this is. Ive been doing a lot of commission work for art and such but now im free. Gonna take it slow.

_ Chapter Three _

_ ~Calloused Palms and Delicate Fingers~ _

  
  


Opening the shop in the morning went on as usual.

You woke up bright and early, getting in a shower and some toast for breakfast before bouncing cheerfully downstairs. Unlike the previous morning, Clover followed each footstep, black tail flicking back and forth as she searched out a nice patch of sunlight to lounge in. Meanwhile, you breezed through each task with ease, pleased to find all the previous day’s seedlings fully grown and ready for trimming. Magic made quick work of those, your mouth babbling forth cheerful praises and kind words to the new bulbs and buds as more were planted in the place of others. A cycle, one that came and went every day without fail. Going smooth enough that there was time to spare, leaving you free to tidy up the front shop and loosely braid your hair. Soft, delicate--peppered with mini carnations and tiny clovers, in honor of your lovely familiar soaking in the morning sun on her belly fur.

You giggled when the cat blinked slowly at you, whiskers glowing with bright light as the shop door was unlocked and sign flipped to “open”. Customers usually wouldn’t come in for another half hour or so, but that was fine. Mondays were generally slow anyway, so you didn’t expect many people to stop by minus the occasional regular or newbie looking for a last minute gift. After ten o’clock, there would be no other orders either, only one being scheduled for a restaurant to pick up some time after nine. Various assortments, mostly lilies. You looked at Clover, realizing this was probably why the cat was more comfortable hanging around the shop that day. Low amounts of people, lots of sun, plenty of time to get attention from their owner.  _ Typical. _ You shook your head, causing a few stray petals to flutter out onto the floor.

Since the morning was slow, you attempted different tasks to keep yourself busy and distracted from wandering thoughts. Yesterday was flower crowns, today was grinding roots and leaves into salves. They were sold on the side as natural remedies, and they definitely worked for their intended purposes. Balms to soothe pain, powder to sprinkle on a pillow to aid sleep, cream to help with dry skin. It was one of the few things your mother managed to pass along before she died, your mind awash with memories of those times. Her smile, showing you just how to use a mortar and pestle while lightly channeling magic. It was cathartic, a walk down memory lane and a reason to smile.

Thinking of her always made flowers bloom in your hair.

By the time that restaurant came to pick up their order there was quite a few buds in your silken locks. They didn’t comment on it, seeming to be in a bit of a hurry as the boxes of flowers were loaded into their truck quickly and efficiently. Papers signed, payment given, customers on their merry way in a matter of minutes. You both preferred it this way and felt a twinge of disappointment--it was nice to have things done and ready at a fast pace. Satisfying even. But once they were gone you were left in the shop by yourself, minus Clover sleeping soundly in a patch of sun as it warmed the fur on her belly. Mondays were oddly lonely, leaving you to drift around the shop repeating small tasks over and over in an attempt to stave off boredom. Trim the roses, arrange bouquets, praise seedlings, make flower crowns--it left your thoughts free to drift in and out of focus, only snapping back when the occasional customer popped in for some flowers.

It was normal. But wasn’t normal was the new addition to your thoughts--Dante. 

How could you stop yourself from thinking about him? You sighed softly, fingers playing with the locket resting on your chest as his face kept making an appearance. Maybe you were just easily swayed by ruggedly handsome men? His white hair, slightly unshaven face and soft eyes...Ah, there it was again. The lonely feeling was worse today because each moment passed with you hoping the mysterious man might return. Maybe you were reading too many romantic books, head spinning webs and stories where none belonged. A handsome stranger comes into your shop, rough around the edges and seeming to carry a deep sadness...what a love story that would make! Problem was that your wistful mind kept hoping so desperately that it was  _ yours. _

“I’m losing my mind, Clover,” You mumbled to the cat, who most certainly wasn’t listening, “Maybe Mrs. Davenport was right--I need to get out of the shop sometimes.”

Clover gave no indication that she had heard other than a flick of her ear, eyes still closed and fur shiny in the sun. You sigh, head resting on your hands as you watched that same sunlight make dancing patterns on the walls every time a car passed. These feelings of attraction came with a strange guilt, one you wanted to shake. How rude was it to daydream about someone who simply came in to get their roses? To convince yourself that there was more to the encounter?  _ He did ask me out to coffee, didn’t he?  _ You tried to reason through the doubts with that, but maybe he could have meant it in a friendly manner? Overthinking again, panicking, mind left to wander in the quiet calm of a monday morning. You let out a light groan, a scattered pile of petals falling from your curls with the spike of stress. Too many maybes, there to make you regret not setting up a day more.

What were you going to do?

“Clover,” You practically whined, head now resting on the counter as you stared at the wall in a daze, “If only you could speak...I need someone to tell me what an idiot I’m being.”

The cat didn’t like you berating yourself. This caused the furry creature to blink her eyes open, glaring at you from the floor before she stretched and sprung to her feet. She was on the counter moments later, one paw firmly pressed to your forehead in a sign of disapproval. Message received loud and clear--she didn’t like you calling yourself an idiot. 

“Sorry sorry…” You mumble, making a face when she rubbed her fur all over your poor face. Thank god you weren't allergic.

Regardless, Clover settled down nearby on the counter edge, staring with round eyes while her tail flicked back and forth. You knew she wanted to help, but there wasn’t much a cat could do in a situation like this. To offer even that silent support was more than you had for a long time, already used to not having friends after going through school alone. Children and teenagers strayed away from the strange and unusual, and you had a reputation for yourself early on.  _ That girl is strange, I heard she can grow flowers in her hair--What if she collects animal skulls in her spare time? Does she do blood rituals? Can she curse us if we do something wrong?  _ Witch rumors spread fast, so you kept that to yourself for a long time. No friends, no relationships ...just the flowers, and focusing on the skills your mother left behind. 

Maybe that was why the idea of going on a date was so exciting, so...nerve wracking. 

You just didn’t want to be alone anymore. The Davenports were lovely, but their new home was an hour drive away. They didn’t want to be close to a city after the Redgrave incident a while back, which you could fully understand. Both stopped by whenever they could manage, and you to them, but...those times between left a lasting effect. It felt so selfish to want more after all the wonderful things you had been given, but...was it so wrong to want companionship? You had gotten lucky, raised by two wonderful human beings who didn’t have to help you, but chose to anyway. They took your mother’s role seriously, buying books on witchcraft and being supportive in any way they could after the incident at school...The Davenports gave so much, and you would never forget that.

You would be fine. You just needed to get past these lonelier days.

So lost in your drifting thoughts, you didn’t notice someone pass by the open store front at all, not even when Clover’s eyes flickered to that area with interest. They stood at the door for a few moments, as if gathering their thoughts before the bell jingled to sound an entrance. Yet you still didn’t notice at all, focused on those patterns on the wall. Thinking about your mother, the Davenports, school and the kids who ridiculed you there. It wasn’t like you to not pay attention, used to greeting each and every customer to make them feel welcome and see if they needed help. But you were oblivious to the tall man entered through the glass door, staring at you in surprise and raising one white eyebrow as he took in you slumped over the counter, looking glum. What a sight that must have been, seeing the cheerful girl from yesterday so troubled and moody.

No, you didn’t notice him at all. Not until he was standing right by the counter, deep voice jolting you right out of daydreaming and bringing the previous days excitement back in a burst.

“You alright, sunshine? Lookin’ a bit cloudy today.”

_ Oh. _

You jolted upright with a gasp, petals scattering all over the counter as you swung around to stare up at the white haired mystery man himself. Sure enough, Dante stood tall and handsome, completely real and solid as he met your gaze with a light grin. Oh goodness, he was dressed differently today--still casually, but a little more clean cut. His stubble had been trimmed neatly, and now he wore a grey button up tucked into black jeans with that red leather jacket slung over his shoulder. The sight of his white hair pulled back in a messy attempt at a ponytail sent your heart into overdrive, orchids dropping a considerable amount of petals from your hair onto the pile already forming at your feet. There goes the loneliness, here comes the absolute sheer excitement and nervousness with him being in the shop again.

He called you sunshine. He remembered.  _ He’s here. _

_ Calm down, you’re being ridiculous. _

“O...oh…!” You tried to get your voice under control, but failed, cheeks already feeling far too warm as you stood straighter and stammered, “H...Hello again, Dante…!”

The rugged male seemed surprise as well, tilting his head a bit as he cleared his throat. You noticed him nervously run a hand through his hair, almost like he didn’t realize it was in a ponytail--the action pulled a few strands loose.

“Didn’t mean to startle ya, “ He chuckled, the sound both warm and a bit off, like he wasn’t sure how to progress at all, “Shocked you remember me, to be honest. I uh...didn’t make the best first impression.”

Something about his awkward disposition was oddly...cute. Relaxing, even. Dante kind of reminded you of a nervous boy asking a girl to a school dance for the first time. Maybe you were reading too much into it, but he seemed just as nervous as you, but better at hiding it. Trying to keep his cool. Reading people was a hobby you kept up on while working in the shop, so his cues and mannerisms were starting to make more sense. That hand through his hair, the way he kept shifting from one leg to another, clearing his voice...He looked a bit embarrassed, to be completely honest. No better than you, which was comforting and endearing all the same. 

His words made you smile softly, some of the anxiety melting away as you replied with firm honesty in your tone, “I disagree...you were very kind and understanding, it made for a lovely first impression. Of course I remember, Dante.”

This seemed to relax him a bit too, his stiff posture losing some of its edge as he let out a hefty sigh, “Maybe, but I do owe you an apology though. I uhhh... I realized later that I hadn’t actually given you a day when we can have coffee or...anything.”

_ Oh.  _ You blinked, staring at his blue eyes despite him looking away, scratching the side of his neck and looking slightly guilty. Another nervous habit.  _ Cute.  _ He must have realized belatedly, like you, that no date had been set up for this impromptu date that had you so nervous. 

A smile tilted your lips, followed by a soft, embarrassed giggle as you admitted, “I kind of forgot to ask about a day too...I...I got too excited and didn’t realize till later…”

Admitting that felt strange, almost like you were giving away too much. It was awkward, but in a way that seemed oddly correct. 

Dante certainly didn’t mind. Hearing about your excitement made his blue eyes finally meet yours, surprise and relief mingling on his expression like it somehow took a weight off his chest. You didn’t really know what you looked like to him in that moment, but Dante was absolutely enchanted. Flowers blooming in your curls, cheeks pink with honesty and excitement...it shot several arrows through his already nervous heart, sending it into overdrive like a caged bird seeking to be freed. Thank god he decided to come back, that he didn’t chicken out and listened to the others.

“That was all on me, sunshine,” He chuckled, leaning against the counter and plucking a few petals from its surface. You flushed more at his closeness, watching him rub the soft floral between his fingers, “Thinkin’ I got a bit too excited myself. It was pretty rude of me to just...ask and bounce like I did. So how ‘bout I make it up to you and take you out today, if you’re free?”

_ Today? So soon?  _ It was everything you wanted and more.

You couldn’t help but notice he smelled nice today--he was close enough that a warm scent reached your sensitive nose, bringing traces of what must have been a men’s soap brand or cologne. Both this and his words sent a little thrill down your spine, heartbeat pounding in your chest even as Clover looked on with curious eyes. She seemed to be keeping her distance for now, sizing Dante up even as he looked at her with a hint of interest in his own gaze. Focus, you needed to focus--The man had asked you a question. But the sight of him trying to cover up his nervousness by turning his attention to Clover was only making you more flustered.

_ We’re both a mess. An absolute mess. _

Dante extended a hand to let your familiar sniff, purposely allowing the small cat take her time instead of petting her outright. Clover already knew about Dante after you talking to her about it. But...her reaction to sniffing him really put you off. Clover was usually a very mild mannered cat, she behaved and liked everyone she met. With Dante, however, her little nose scrunched up in obvious distaste, ears flat against her skull and a low growl emanating from her throat. You blinked in surprise, watching Dante immediately retrieve his hand and look ruefully disappointed. Not surprised, like he somehow expected this outcome. He didn’t try to reach out again, making an apologetic face to you as she let out another low growl.

What in the world was  _ that?  _ Your familiar immediately slunk her way around you in a very protective manner, ears still down and eyes not leaving Dante for a second. Why was she so angry? You got nothing but honesty from Dante when he spoke, and there were no bad scents or energies. Mind you, there was something a bit off about his aura, just a twinge of something from him that felt familiar. But...no violence, no bad intentions. Your senses didn’t lie, not when it came to something this important. Perhaps Clover was just feeling a bit territorial or jealous? Having a stranger coming into your life might have been scary, or maybe it was due to how upset you were the previous night due to not knowing if he would come back?

“Clover!” You scolded, picking the cat off the counter and tucking her against your chest, “Don’t be mean, that’s so unlike you…!”

The cat snorted in your face, ears flicking and looking quite perturbed. Her gaze kept flickering over to Dante in a fierce glare, letting out light growls as Dante shifted back a step, getting the message loud and clear.

“Don’t worry about it,” He chuckled, seeming ruefully as he stared at Clover’s fluffed up tail, “Cats don’t like me too much--never knew why.”

That last part of his sentence...it was tinged in a bit of untruth. He knew why cats didn’t like him--but whatever it was, the man was reluctant to tell you why.

Perhaps that should have made you wary, should have made you hesitate. Clover was your familiar, and her judgement was important to you above all other things. But this lie, seeing the almost sad way his eyes drifted away only served to make you very curious, stirring that part of you that sought adventure and wanted to know more. Past attraction, wanting to know what rested at the core of this strange man who seemingly stumbled into your life. You paused, staring at Clover’s scrunched up face imploringly for a moment, gathering your thoughts. If anything, going out to a coffee was the safest you could get--you could pick the place, somewhere public and talk for a bit. If there was any indication of danger, you could leave. Easy as that.

You wanted to know him. Wanted to know what made Clover not like him.

_ I’m sorry, Clove. I have to try, I have to know. _

“I can close the shop down early for the day,” You said decidedly, looking shyly at Dante while he blinked in surprise, “It’s slow on mondays. Do you mind waiting here while I take Clover upstairs and get changed?”

Something akin to eagerness flashed in his eyes, but he tried to keep his tone neutral as he replied, “You sure? I wouldn’t want to barge in on your work day or anything.”

That was the fun part about owning your own business--you got to set hours and make choices. There were no more deliveries and business would be slow at best, completely absent at most.

A soft smile tilted your lips as you stepped out from behind the counter, shaking free a cloud of petals as you turned up the closed sign on the door. All the while Clover growled softly, tail doubled in size with her anger. She wasn’t liking this situation at all, especially not with you ignoring her warnings and still going out with Dante.

“It’s perfectly fine,” You reassured the man and her at the same time, slipping past him to head upstairs, “I’ll be down in five minutes...I know a lovely bakery nearby that serves coffee and tea, we can go there for lunch.”

Somehow this relieved Dante, like he hadn’t actually decided where you both would go. He nodded, running a hand through his silver hair again in a nervous gesture, “Sounds good, sunshine.”

That nickname made your heart beat faster, cheeks flushed as you hurried to the back room and up toward your apartment. Petals drifted in your wake, a few more orchids blooming in your excitement. Lord, you were so out of control at that moment it was ridiculous. This was your first date, the only one you had ever gone on in your whole life. No dating in high school, so busy with the shop afterwards that it never came up. But now...what were you supposed to do on a first date? Could you hold hands? Was that too much? So many questions were buzzing around your skull that you weren’t sure how to process anything.

All the while, Clover meowed naggingly as you entered the apartment, seeming distressed as you set her down on the table. She followed, eyes watching and little mouth working overtime as you changed into something cute--a pink sweater tucked into a high waisted, black pleated skirt. Would pink thigh highs and boots be too much? You settled for tights instead, and brown laced boots to go with it. There was still that part of your brain worried about Clover’s reaction to Dante, but you wanted to try trusting your instincts for once. 

So many years you spent letting fear and worry keep you to yourself, working in the flowershop alone. A lot of that time was spent letting others make your choices for you, content on just doing what was expected of you and safe. But now...you wanted something exciting, wanted to try and listen to instinct for once.

You paused, taking a deep breath and holding your mother’s locket firmly between your fingers. She would never let you get hurt, never lead you astray. There were no bad feelings from Dante, and until there were you would rather take a chance than play everything safe.

“I’ll be okay, Clover,” You promised the cat, finally looking down at her body weaving between your feet before plucking her up into an embrace. She stopped meowing as you did so, looking incredibly worried even as you kissed her snout, “Just trust me, okay? I don’t know why you’re so spooked, but...I want to take a chance. If something is up, I’ll come right home. Promise.”

The cat still hesitated, ears pressed back and eyes wide with worry. But she didn’t meow again as you set her down, grabbing your small purse and keys before heading for the door. Cell phone carefully tucked away, everything in its place. Just in case, you brought a packet of particularly potent seeds, ones that could sprout into vines if you needed to make a quick retreat. You never ever assumed Dante could hurt you, or even want to, but...Mrs. Davenport taught you to be cautious, and you didn’t want to be too trusting.

Clover was sitting by the door as you closed it, like she was ready to wait until you came back. Hopefully she wouldn’t do that, but you gave her a small wave anyway as the wooden surface separated you both from view. Her dislike of the white haired male was definitely disappointing, you wouldn’t deny that. There was still a mystery to uncover, however, and going out on this little date was something you wanted more than anything. It felt so foolish to think this way--like those girls you see in movies who end up ignoring warning signs and going out with serial killers.

But...Dante’s aura was gentle with you. It was sad, filled with trauma he seemed to keep bottled up. The colors were warm and bright, tinged with something you didn’t understand--but you wanted to.

So you gathered your courage... and made your way downstairs. 

Dante was still waiting there when you arrived, seemingly trying to fix his messed up ponytail. That leather jacket was now on his body, a stark contrast from the nuetral grays and blacks of his outfit. He didn’t notice you return, eyes down in concentration as his long fingers slid back the white hair with a black hair tie in tow. Something about it made your heart beat faster, flustered all over again at the way his grey button up shifted around his chest muscles and waist. Oh dear…maybe you didn’t have the nerves for this? Sent blushing and nervous just at the sight of him doing something so normal, like a flustered school girl.

_ No backing down now. _

You took a deep breath, nervously tucking a curl behind your ear and trying to will each flower to stop blooming in the loose braid you still had. The orchids had a mind of their own and practically blasted your feelings to the whole world, it was so embarrassing. So...honest.

Dante looked up at the sound of your boots clicking on the floor, breath catching as he took in your appearance with unabashed awe before trying to make his expression more collected and neutral. You looked like a fae in his eyes, ethereal and gorgeous in the sun’s dancing patterns. The flowers in your hair, the way your braid curled over your shoulder with the occasional curl escaping to cling around your face….you were a vision, and he was having trouble gathering himself together at the sight. How was he supposed to not act like a stammering, bumbling mess around you now? 

He needed to remember what Trish and Lady told him.  _ Open all the doors for her, tell her she’s pretty, but that’s not the most important thing about her. Remember to listen, to talk about her and yourself. Be a gentleman for fucks sake. _

“Welcome back, sunshine,” He greeted you, lips quirked in a half smile as he stood straight and stepped away from the counter. There was a hint of nervousness in his eyes, a chuckle escaping his lips as he added, “Just gonna warn you now, I’m gonna be a whole idiot today walking around with you lookin’ that gorgeous. I’m already forgetting how to make complete sentences.”

He was trying to use humor to cover up his awkward compliment, which was charming your socks off while also sending your heart pounding away.  _ I’m such a mess. I’m such a MESS--one complement and I’m practically a puddle at his feet. _

You flushed pink, looking down as you stammered, “I...I highly doubt that...but...you look very handsome today too. I’ve never been on a date before so...I might be an idiot too.”

Were you supposed to admit that? Maybe not. But Dante didn’t seem to mind. 

He let out a sigh of relief, walking toward you and staring ruefully at your flustered face. You felt a twinge of surprise when he held out a hand for your to take, showing you those calloused, scarred fingers you felt the day before. 

“Then we have something in common,” He admitted, scratching the back of his head with the other hand, “This is honestly the first time I’ve tried going on a date with anyone...I’m a bit of a disaster, sunshine.”

Somehow, that both surprised you and didn’t. He was so handsome and warm, but...there was tragedy in his life. It was something dark and heavy, weighing the poor man down and you weren’t doubting that, not with what you could sense. But...you were a bit of a disaster too, and you had your own secrets tucked away where no one could see. Dante was an adventure, and something about him drew you in like a moth to a flame. So you took his hand gently with your fingers, enjoying the way he sucked in a surprised breath and a hint of flush made its way across his cheeks. It would seem some of his reactions were very honest, especially when your fingers curled around his and squeezed. Warm...very warm, and oh so gentle with you...he squeezed back.

His expression was  _ so cute. _

You smiled softly, tugging him towards the door as you replied, “That’s fine with me...I’m a bit of a disaster too, so try not to worry too much. We can learn together, slowly if you’d like.”

This was only the first date--both of you had all the time in the world to decide how this would go. Maybe after learning about him, or seeing how he acted in public would make you change your mind. Maybe you weren’t compatible--but learning that would be part of the fun. And there would be no better way of doing it than having a nice lunch at Alex’s bakery, with people you knew and faces around who had your back. But Dante didn’t seem to be a bad person, nor did he seem to have bad intentions. There was only a quiet, nervous eagerness from him as he opened the flowershop door for you, still holding your hand as you locked it tight for the day. 

The waiting mid-day sun was warm on your face, like a soothing caress as you turned to smile at Dante. Your cheeks immediately flushed, however, at how handsome he looked with the light glinting off his white hair. Lord, he was a beautiful man, and the world seemed determined to show you. The thought made you suck in a breath, trying to gather any courage you could muster while tugged his hand to signal movement. He fell in step easily, tucking you hand around his arm like a gentleman would.

_ Do not get too attached yet. It’s only one day. _

“I think you’ll like Alex’s bakery,” You hummed, the wind rustling your curls as you walked the familiar path, “His sweets are great if you like that--and they have a wonderful dark roast and many different exotic teas.”

“Sweets are good,” Dante nodded in approval, eyes lighting up at the prospect, “To be honest I wasn’t sure if you liked coffee, sunshine.”

A sweet tooth then? That was pretty surprising for a man like him, not that you would say that.

Instead you smiled, staring forward as you responded softly, “What’s your favorite sweet, Dante?”

You expected him to think about it, or maybe rattle off something like chocolate or some cream filled pastry. But instead he grinned, his answer quick and smooth as he turned to meet your gaze.

“My favorite? Strawberries.”


	4. Strawberry Crepes and Coffee Mugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sunday updates now kids! I'll try to keep up, I swear

**_Chapter Four_**

_~Strawberry Crepes and Coffee Mugs~_

Dante, for all his time spent fighting demons and trying not to die, could not remember the last time he was so god damn nervous.

Holding your hand, heading toward a quaint-looking bakery near your shop was somehow harder to handle than facing a horde of one hundred demons. Although that could be attributed to the fact that he was used to such scenarios. Swinging a sword, firing a gun, the spray of blood from some scumbag demon...that was the life he knew. Not this--a life of sunshine, flower petals and soft domestic things like going on a _date._ Growing up as he did, even dating as a teenager was never really an option. Always back to targets, to fighting--blood, steel, and bullets. Content to just look at magazines and flirt with the occasional woman who crossed his path, which somehow always led to him getting stabbed, beaten, or shot. He got the message right away that maybe love and romance just wasn’t in his cards. So...Dante the Devil Hunter gave up on relationships, and stuck to what he knew.

Until today, that is. What in the world was it about you that changed his mind, that brought down some of his self-imposed rules he always abided by? You left him a bumbling mess, which usually Dante would hate and try to avoid at all costs. But like a moth to the flame, he returned almost eagerly to keep this connection to you. Because despite how off putting it was to feel silly and flustered by a woman, _it was nice_. Maybe he was just getting too old, craving normalcy in his life after all these years of just dealing with Vergil’s messes and fighting demons? Whatever the reason, Dante felt like his heart was ready to burst from pounding too hard, working overtime at even the slightest things that should in no way be that exciting. The soft skin of your warm fingers, the way your eyes lit up when he returned to the store...no woman had given him these feelings before. Even the sight of sunlight glinting off your curls had him light headed and almost entranced.

Maybe you were a fae. One that was enchanting the devil hunter and would someday steal him away into the woods, never to be seen again.

Regardless, he couldn’t really care. Dante had gone through all the necessary steps for this date that Trish, Lady, and oddly enough _Vergil_ had deemed acceptable. Upon seeing his brother ready to leave the house in the same leather and dull t-shirt Vergil looked damn near close to bursting a blood vessel. The women had given him a crash course on how to treat a lady on a date, and Vergil had flung the button up at his face with a bottle of cologne. Dante wasn’t sure how to feel about his outfit, but at least he managed to trim up his face and pull back the hair. You deserved far better than some scruffy mess to take you out on a date, and yet here Dante was walking down the street for some lunch. Holding hands with a flower girl, trying to justify to himself why it was acceptable to be here.

Seeing you look so happy...maybe it was worth it.

Because Dante couldn’t deny the excitement in your eyes, the way your soft lips tilted up in a very obvious display of delight. It was still surprising that such a gentle woman would want to know someone like him, who would be eager to just talk and have some lunch. Oddly enough, he found himself incredibly eager as well--you were kind and made for easy conversation, presence alone enough to make the demons and bloodshed of his line of work seem far away.

The answer to your question, of what his favorite sweets were, was enough to make your face light up like a child on Christmas morning. For a second, Dante thought he saw a new flower appear in your curls, but maybe it was just hidden underneath? You certainly had a talent for pinning flora to your head.

“I love strawberries!” You exclaimed, smile cheerful and hand squeezing his a bit, “I grow some in my garden! Alex and his wife use them for pastries and desserts sometimes, so I’m fairly positive you’ll be able to try some.”

How often his mind seemed to forget, you owned a flowershop. It made sense that more than a few flowers would be grown there.

Dante smirked a bit, expression wry as he met your bright eyes, “You never cease to amaze, sunshine. I might have to buy some off of you when we get back to your shop.”

God, the way your cheeks pinked ever so slightly at his praises did things to his heart. What in the world was wrong with him? He gave girls compliments all the time, hopelessly silly flirting that meant nothing and just boiled down to him getting shot or punched. But when it came to you...maybe it was different when he was actually trying?

“N...nonsense! They grow super fast, and I...I’d happily give you some for free.” You disagreed softly, hiding your embarrassed expression behind your curls a little bit. 

He chuckled in response, noticing a few more flower petals scattering out of your hair as he replied, “Can’t deny a pretty girl her business--what kind of guy would I be then?”

You flushed more at that, looking absolutely frazzled. It was incredibly cute, so much that Dante was having issues keeping his own emotions in check. Heart racing, free hand practically making tracks in his goddamn hair...Years of fighting demons hadn’t prepared him for dating, not by a long shot. It was so strange--it felt like every single bad habit he had grown accustomed to in the past few years was coming back to haunt him. The way he ate, acted, the recklessness…and it was only day one. How the hell was he supposed to get through hours of trying not to make an absolute fool out of himself?

The answer to that question? He was going to make a fool out of himself no matter what.

You finally reached the bakery before a reply could be formed, Dante making sure to open the door for you like a gentleman would. A smile curled your lips as you stepped inside, now surrounded by the deliciously warm aroma of baked goods and coffee. Lunchtime seemed relatively calm despite the obvious popularity of a local business, tables dotted with an occasional couple or singular human enjoying lunch before going on with their day. It was a far cry from the boring, company owned coffee places Dante usually stopped at for his usual cup. Bright, vivid, warm and inviting--even the man behind the counter smiled eagerly upon your arrival, easily recognizing you and looking absolutely delighted. He was an older gentleman, maybe in his fifties or sixties, with little wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. This was definitely Alex, no doubt about that.

The man in question set down the mug he was cleaning, coming out from behind the counter as he greeted warmly, “Y/N! Thanks for coming by, we haven’t seen you in a while!” His gaze lifted to Dante, who was still holding your hand after opening the door. The devil hunter expected wariness, maybe worry at seeing someone like him accompanying you at all. But there was only curiosity, and a hint of surprise as he asked, “Never seen you come in with someone before! Who’s your friend?”

You seemed to be trying your best not to get flustered, but there was a hint of pink to your cheeks regardless. Dante held his hand out for a shake before you could reply, giving enough time for you to gather yourself as he provided helpfully, “Dante--you must be Alex, yeah?”

The baker had a firm handshake, seeming pleased with Dante’s friendliness as he hummed, “That’s me! My wife and I run this fine establishment, and Y/N here is a sort of business partner--she provides wonderful seasonal fruits when our sellers fall short! Don’t know what we’d do without her.”

You managed a light huff at that, looking far more collected while being appropriately modest, “You’re far too kind...you and Bella do a lot for me, some cases of strawberries or blueberries is nothing in comparison.”

By your tone, it seemed like you were trying very hard not to take credit for anything. 

Alex grinned cheerfully, turning his gaze back to Dante as he continued, “She’s far too modest for her own good--but enough about that, you two came in for some food right?” The baker looked a bit playful, raising a brow at you and chuckling lightly, “How about we set up you and your date with some lunch?”

The very mention of “dating” made your cheeks flush, a handful of petals drifting out onto the floor from those beautiful locks. Dante tried not to smirk, he really did, but seeing your reactions was just so fucking adorable. Though he did notice that there was definitely more flowers in your hair, there was no mistaking that--he wasn’t sure what kind, but they were bright and beautiful as they drifted some soft flora onto the ground. Alex seemed used to it, not minding at all as he gave a hearty laugh and gestured to a nearby table for you both to sit down. 

“Take a load off--I’ll let you both look at some menus and come by with whatever you want,” Alex hummed, practically skipping back to the counter with a good-natured smile as he winked at you both, “My treat.”

Dante was flattered to say the least--He may not be the wealthiest, and struggled to manage money without Vergil there to manage the funds, but he would be damned before he let his date pay for the food or whatever they were out doing. This baker seemed determined not to let them spend anything, however, which Dante was tempted to argue with. There was obviously no need--you beat him to it easily. 

Alex’s firm declaration made you sputter instantly, blinking owlishly at the man as you protested, “B...but I have money, surely you don’t need to--”

“Nonsense! I’m not taking a dime from you or your date.”

Alex waved away your protests, heading back into his kitchen to probably tell his wife you were there. He was a pretty nice guy--Dante could respect someone like him, a man who rooted himself in kindness and wholesome business practices. Once upon a time, the devil hunter could have seen himself doing the same thing when he grew up...as a child, he imagined a slew of things as his future. Police officer, baker, business owner, musician--it changed like the wind flowing, sparking with whatever held his interest at that time, or from whatever book or show he was into. He was different than Vergil, who only seemed hellbent on being just like their father. Sword fighting and training were always for fun, something to do with his brother.

Danted missed those days.

_Focus, idiot._

Dante turned his attention back to you, not shocked when he found you staring after Alex in exasperation. You slumped in your chair, letting out a low sigh and pushing some curly locks back in a gesture that was almost...shy. It was definitely cute, and those pretty cheeks were still flushed. Dante felt his woes and musings about the past slowly start drifting away, like flower petals on the breeze as he smirked and finally met that wonderful gaze--there was bashfulness there, and a hint of embarrassment. There was so much he wanted to know about what went on inside your head, where your thoughts were going. 

“People really care about you, sunshine,” He mused, plucking up two menus from a nearby holder and holding one out to you expectantly. You looked surprised by his comment, even more so when he continued on, “Don’t be too upset with your friend--nice guy that one. Though I gotta admit, he did steal my thunder a bit...here I was gearing up to pay for it myself.”

That made you smile softly, opening the menu to hide your face behind it. Didn’t do much good, he still saw a bunch of petals scatter out onto the floor and parts of the table.

“W...well...we might as well eat…” You murmured, clearing your throat a bit and peeking over the object shielding you from view, “For the record, you...you don’t have to do that…”

“Do what?” Dante replied, raising a brow and leaning his head on one hand.

You flushed a bit more, squirming in your seat and blowing a petal out of your face. He fought a chuckle, enjoying your reactions and mannerisms far too much.

“You don’t have to pay for me,” Was your eventual reply, nose scrunching up a little bit as your eyes darted back to the menu, “I don’t want to inconvenience you is all. It’s...It’s just the first date and I...um…”

Damn, he felt like a giddy kid at his first school dance. Dante couldn’t help himself--a bit of an awkward chuckle escaped his lips, one hand scratching underneath his loose ponytail in a display of his own nervousness.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I made a nice lady pay for everything?” He tsked slightly, a few strands of hair falling loose when he shook his head, “Don’t worry yourself, sunshine. Ain’t no way in hell you could ever inconvenience me.”

_You just sitting here with me is proof that some higher power is giving me a blessing._

Your cheeks flushed again, head ducked behind the menu as you pretended to scan for something to eat as a means of distraction. Dante could only chuckle softly, closing his own menu after picking exactly what he wanted with ease. This place definitely had the fixings to make his sweet tooth happy, no denying that. Pastries, cookies, cakes, bread, sundaes, parfaits...It had been awhile since he treated himself to anything other than cheap pizza and beer. Vergil hated both, but it was all he would allow Dante on their newfound “budget”. Things had gotten easier since their demon hunting was being technically counted as government work while things were so hectic, but...this was a nice change of pace. Sitting in a bakery with a beautiful girl, getting to know her over some sweets and coffee...it seemed so far from what he was used to.

Regardless, a beautiful woman appeared out from the kitchen, hair in braids and looking just as cheerful as Alex was. She was wearing an apron stained with flour, dusting off her hands even as she clutched a little notepad for taking orders--no doubt Alex had informed her of you being in the bakery with someone new, blushing and on a date. Her green eyes lit up when she spotted the table, curious and eager when she took in the white-haired male lounging calmly and you hiding your face behind a menu. Dante tried to make it seem like he hadn’t noticed her, tapping your foot under the table to get your attention--she hadn’t approached the table yet, and was merely hovering near the counter spying with absolutely no subtlety. Not that he minded--it was just a little odd in his opinion.

You jolted as soon as his foot touched yours, sitting up straight and meeting his gaze. The devil hunter grinned, pointing lightly while hiding it behind his other hand.

“I’m guessing that’s Bella?” He hummed low, leaning closer to you for some semblance of privacy. Your flushed face was absolutely adorable, but you did put your head nearer to his, listening closely and nodding at his question.

“It is...I’m sorry…” Your voice was soft, filled with hesitation as you tried not to make it obvious to Bella that you were talking about her, “M...maybe we should have gone somewhere else...I hope my friends aren’t bothering you.”

Dante immediately shook his head, heart squeezing at the forlorn look in your eyes. Precious girl was concerned about his comfort, which was sweet to say the least. But...the devil hunter wasn’t bothered, not when he knew damn well Trish, Lady, and Vergil had to be somewhere nearby watching in secret. All three were way too curious to stay behind at Devil May Cry while he went on a date, no doubt about that.

So Dante reached out, gently grasping your fingers, enjoying the way your eyes lit up and cheeks flushed pink in response.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” He winked, giving your hand a light squeeze before leaning back again, “I’m not bothered at all--I’d even venture to say I’m having a lot of fun. I don’t get out too often like this, it’s...well, it’s a nice change of pace.”

The way he spoke made you curious, there was no doubting that. You opened your mouth to reply, maybe to ask some questions about his lifestyle or what he meant, but Bella decided in that moment she had enough of standing by and spying. She hopped up from behind the counter, strolling over to the table with a friendly smile and meeting your startled gaze with an eager one of her own.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Y/N,” She greeted, green orbs sliding over to Dante in the next instant as she added, “Alex told me you were here on a date--Dante, right?”

She held out her hand, eyes flashing with a hint of wariness unlike her husband and ignoring the way your face flushed at the very mention of being on a date.. Ah--it was pretty clear she was protective of you, like an older sister that was trying to see if she trusted him or not. He could respect that--honestly had Dante left the house looking as he had in the morning Alex and Bella could have easily mistaken him for a degenerate of some sort.

He shook her hand warmly, offering a friendly grin as he replied, “Pleasure to meet ya. Y/N spoke high praises of you and Alex--I can see why. Beautiful place you’ve got here.”

His laid back manner of speaking made her relax a bit, a low breath stirring the air as she replied, “She’s a sweetheart that one. She’d speak nice of us even if we served slop here.”

“Hey!” You protested, looking thoroughly flustered while looking between the two.

Bella simply gave a good-natured laugh, reaching her free hand out to tussle those beautiful curls. You didn’t lean away from the gesture, exasperated expression melting into a rueful smile. Bella almost had a motherly air about her when it came to you, or that of an older sibling. Something about seeing so many kind people surrounding you felt...nice, especially when he remembered what you mentioned at the shop. Losing your mother at a young age, and no mention of your father or any other family...it seemed like you didn’t surround yourself with many people, so knowing there was at least Alex and Bella there on your behalf was oddly relieving.

“Now--what can I get you two lovebirds?” Bella finally asked, so innocent she should have been wearing a halo despite the wicked gleam in her eyes. She was enjoying this whole situation far too much, that was apparent.

You cleared your throat a bit, looking at Dante as if expecting him to order first. He merely smirked in response, gesturing with one hand for you to proceed. The devil hunter was a bit curious about what you liked to eat and drink, so this was a learning experience.

“The hibiscus tea, please...with honey.” You closed the menu, gently handing it to Bella and looking sheepish.

“The usual amount?” Bella inquired, smiling cheerfully as she wrote it down on the little notepad.

“Mhm...and can I get an order of strawberry crepes?”

Damn, that sounded pretty freaking good. Dante hadn’t really had something like crepes in a long time, and the idea of it was a bit more appealing than the parfait he had planned. Plus...eating something you liked would be nice, though tea wasn’t really his favorite thing. Better to supplement with coffee. 

“Drizzled with nutella then? Do you want whipped cream?” Bella was asking when he focused again, scribbling everything down on that little pad of paper. The more she spoke the more his mouth began to water. Maybe skipping breakfast wasn’t the best idea?

You were nodding to everything, occasionally peeking at him through that curtain of curly hair. The way each strand framed your cheeks was absolutely enchanting, peppered with flowers and petals like a forest fairy sitting in a patch of sunlight. He was zoning out just gazing at you, head still resting on his hand and probably looking like an absolutely slack-jawed oaf. Whatever his expression was it made you flush pink, a cute smile tilting your lips and some more petals falling to the floor in an amassing pile. Man...he was seriously in deep, wasn’t he?

Bella didn’t seem to mind, only letting out a small giggle and turning to Dante next for his order despite him not really paying attention either. The absolutely star struck expression on his face was definitely easing her further. Not that he noticed. 

“And what can I get you, big guy?” She inquired, tapping him on the shoulder and startling him out of whatever trance he was in. Dante at least had the good graces to look bashful, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his head again in that nervous little gesture.

“U...uh…yeah,” He mumbled, coughing once before continuing on more soundly, “Latte for me. And an order of those crepes Y/N decided on.”

You perked up at that, looking absolutely delighted while Bella jotted down the order. The cheerful woman let out a pleased hum, tucking the little notepad away before grinning at the couple trying not to stare at each other.

“I’ll have your drinks right out,” She promised, giving you a not-so-subtle wink, “And Alex will get to work on those crepes. You two have fun.”

She gave a little wave of her fingers, slipping between the tables with a pep in her step while you flushed pink again. All at once the two of you were left alone, so many questions to ask and things to learn with no real jumping off point. Dante settled back in his chair again, tilting his head as he eyed your flushed face--you were nervous, sure, but also happy by the looks of it. There was a glint of delight in your eyes, and something about your expression radiated a pure joy that left him more than a little breathless and chest squeezing lightly. Hell, your whole presence was oddly...relaxing, in a way that reminded him of sitting in a flower meadow with the sun shining down and a breeze rustling his hair. Which was odd, to be honest, considering the fact that he didn’t recall ever being in such a scenario before. Maybe when he was still a child, before things all went to hell?

 _Don’t think about that. Not right now, with her_.

Dante let out a slow breath, leaning forward again to put himself at better eye level with you. It made you sit up straighter, little heart probably hammering in your chest as your cheeks gave you away every time. It was charming the hell out of him. 

“Tell me about you, sunshine,” He said, tone low and intimate in that little corner where you both sat, “I know you own your own business--what made you decide to start growing flowers?”

You seemed taken aback by such an upfront question, settling in the chair with your hands on your lap. For a second Dante was afraid he had been too forward in his questioning, but the small, wistful smile on your lips made the fear halt in its tracks. It was the kind of smile he knew well, the one someone wore while remembering something dear to them. 

You shifted a bit, hand instinctively reaching up to clasp a locket dangling around your neck. It was a pretty little silver thing, with intricate patterns forming into the shape of a flower. The way you clutched it between your fingers was almost instinctive, like breathing or blinking. 

“My mother and I had a garden when I was little,” You replied softly, eyes glowing with the sunlight that came out of a nearby window. Dante felt his breath catch at your response, heart growing tighter as you continued gently, “She taught me how to respect nature, how to nurture seedlings and flora. After she died...its one of the ways I remember her. It makes me happy.”

Damn...he remembered you mentioning the loss of her mother at a young age. That first day in the shop when they met, he had been going there to get roses because his own mother loved them so much. It was one of the first things that made him feel...connected somehow, that sharing of a tragedy. He knew that pain all too well, it was one of the things that made him who he was today, shaping his very existence. That day in the mansion, trapped in a closet and forced to listen as his mother was murdered by demons. The memory alone was enough to make that familiar pain and regret return, as much as he tried to push it down. There was another part of him curious about how your mother died, but asking would be incredibly rude and definitely not something for a first date.

_Stop thinking about it._

“She...sounds like a wonderful person,” He cleared his throat again, leaning on his hands and staring into your eyes as they lifted his way, “I’m certain she’d be proud--you do wonderful stuff at that shop. Hell--I’m positive my mother would have adored the roses I bought from you.”

That made you perk up, eyes soft and curious at the mention of his own lost mother. Almost instinctively, you reached one gentle hand out to clasp his, the thrill of it traveling up his spine like a giddy jolt of electricity.

“What was she like--your mother?” You inquired, a bit hesitant as well considering the heavy nature of the discussion.

Christ...when was the last time he opened up to anyone about his mother? Despite Trish looking exactly like Eva, he never spoke to her about it. Ever. It was just a fact that hung between them, a mutual understanding. Lady wasn’t one for discussions like there either, and Vergil talking about his emotions was entirely out of the question. Part of him didn’t want to bare that much of himself to you so early, and yet...it was pleasant, this feeling. To have someone who would listen without judgement, to act normal and human for even a day. Like a paradise away from his job and life, a small reprieve he wasn’t sure was deserved. But his mouth opened anyway, the rest of the world fading away while the devil hunter spoke to you. Not feeling like a devil hunter, just...Dante.

“I lost her when I was little too, so I don’t remember all that much,” He admitted, blowing a soft breath out from his cheeks, “I remember her being kind, caring...a wonderful mother. She must’ve had a ton of patience to deal with me and my brother while we bickered.”

You perked up a bit in surprise, opening your mouth to ask another question when Bella slid up to the table. The sound of her setting down two cups made you both jump, turning to gaze at her sheepishly while she smirked in absolute amusement. Much to Dante’s dismay, you released his hand, leaving it with a feeling that was oddly…lonely. Not to mention, having someone sneak up on him was a strange sensation, one that would usually prompt him to whip out his pistol or sword. Neither were on him thankfully, and it left Dante feeling a bit out of place as you thanked Bella and slid his cup closer to him.

“Thank you so much, these look wonderful.” You beamed, lifting a beautiful tea cup to your lips to inhale the scent. The liquid inside was steaming hot, a pretty color that was different from the usual teas he saw. Whatever hibiscus tea was, it smelled lovely and drifted with the faintest hints of honey.

His own latte looked far too beautiful to drink, the foam on top decorated to look like a leaf. Damn, it was prettier than anything he had consumed in his whole life.

“Looks great.” He complimented, meaning it wholeheartedly as he grinned at Bella.

She nodded, winking at you both again as she replied, “I’ll be back soon with your food, don’t mind me.” 

The woman slipped away again, back to the counter to take the order of a new set of people coming in. Dante made sure to take pause, lifting his own cup of coffee to sample a taste of the liquid inside. It was pleasantly hot and sweet as it rolled over his tongue, a delight after the cheap coffee they had at Devil May Cry in the past month. Honestly, he’d have to come here more often, just to treat himself occasionally after work. The warm atmosphere, the smell of bread and pastries mingling with coffee...it was relaxing, soothing in the strangest way. And yet...he was almost positive that it wouldn’t be nearly as so without you there, hair glowing in the sun and drifting in the scent of flora.

He looked at you from over his cup, enjoying the way you savored your tea with gentle sips. You set it down soon after, meeting his eyes with that gentle curiosity as you remembered the question that Bella cut off before.

“You have a brother?” 

Oh yeah...he mentioned Vergil, didn’t he? Not by name, but...how much they bickered.

Dante scratched the back of his head, taking another sip of coffee to help clear his throat as he grunted, “Sure do...a twin, if you can believe that,” Your mouth popped open in surprise, so he continued on ruefully, “He’s…a bit problematic. We got separated after mother died, and he uhh...made some bad choices. Never really got along with him all that well, but...he stays with me now, helps with the business.”

Christ...he never realized just how much he couldn’t talk about with you until now. He preferred to keep you as far away from demon hunting as possible, and Vergil had done so much unbelievably terrible shit that there wasn’t much he could say without you being horrified. The Tower, the Qliphoth tree, Urizen, V…there was so much to unpack, even without bringing Nero and the fact that he was Dante’s nephew into the mix. God damn...his life really was a disaster, wasn’t it?

Still...everything he said hadn’t been a lie. Just...not the exact truth.

You nodded in understanding, sympathy in your gaze as you replied softly, “I mean...is your relationship any better now? I don’t have siblings, I can’t imagine really going through something like being on bad terms with a brother or sister like that.”

Dante seriously doubted you could have anyone hate you at all.

He chuckled, reaching out to pat your hand as he replied, “Don’t worry too much, sunshine. It’s not perfect, but at least he’s where I can make sure he’s not doing stupid shit. He’s trying to be better, which is worth something I guess.”

Vergil certainly wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. But his twin had the feeling that all the terrible shit he had done was finally starting to click, even just a little bit.

“I see…” You murmured, tucking some of that beautiful hair behind your ear as you gazed up at him again. There seemed to be a sudden realization, that beautiful gaze blinking owlishly at him as you added, “Wait...you said you have a business too? What sort of business do you run?”

Ah…fuck, he had mentioned that, hadn’t he? What the hell could she tell you about Devil May Cry that wasn’t a lie? The name of it alone was pretty strange, telling a story that he had literally no excuses for. And yet...there was a part of him that felt uneasy about the idea of making something up, especially when he was on the first date with you. Trying to start a relationship on a bed of lies seemed so wrong, as hesitant as he was to even admit that’s what he was trying to do. But...Dante liked you a lot, felt soothed by your presence. Even now he was ready to admit he wanted to do this again, wanted an excuse to keep meeting you. Pushing the demons of his past away, growing close to someone in the hopes of growing near to them...surely he was allowed that much?

Dante let out a low sigh, struggling to form his reply a bit as it tumbled out awkwardly, “Err...It’s…kind of hard to explain. We kind of do odd jobs for the government, nothing illegal I swear...it’s just nothing that’s completely normal…”

_I sound like a complete jackass, a shady one at that._

Government jobs? Odd jobs? He sounded like a drug dealer, or a hit man when speaking like that. Not that his actual job was any better--being a demon hunter was no small thing, it was absolutely not the kind of thing he could talk about.

You blinked, not seeming phased in the slightest as he tried to form a coherent response. That surprised him a bit, even when you reached out to grasp his hand again with your warm fingers. Even more so after holding that cup of tea, it was absolutely pleasant.

“I don’t think you’re doing anything illegal,” You assured, smiling at the nervous mannerisms he displayed and squeezing softly, “And you don’t have to explain everything to me, not when it makes you uncomfortable. There’s...definitely things I can’t talk about right now too...and that’s okay.”

You smiled warmly, something in your eyes looking hesitant and distant again. That look stirred those emotions in his chest, that ache brought forth by knowing something was definitely troubling that gentle soul of yours. The idea of someone hurting a gentle, loving girl like you was...well, it stirred up that part of him he knew was capable of violence. That protective part of him, the one that just wanted you safe and happy. But he wasn’t going to push it, especially not with you respecting his boundaries like you were. To do so would be deeply disrespectful--these things could come in time, and he wanted to learn more, to get closer to you.

So he let out a slow breath, lifting your fingers gently up to his lips. You held back a squeak of surprise, cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink and numerous petals falling from your hair as he brushed your warm digits ever so slightly. That reaction definitely made his own nervousness worth it, made everything worth it.

“We have time, sunshine.” He agreed, giving you smile that was equal parts sheepish and equal parts warmth, “As much as we need.”

You nodded once, eyes bright with delight and excitement as he continued to hold your hand. So lost in that moment, neither of you noticed Bella walking up until she cleared her throat, causing you to spring apart like two teenagers caught making out. She chuckled, setting down two exquisite plates of crepes before the blushing duo with absolute mirth glinting in her eyes. Dante wasn’t one for feeling bashful, but damn, this was as close as he could get. It felt like he was catching up on a lot of shit he missed out on in life, this whole scenario being one of them. It was nice, in an odd way, to share something so normal and domestic with you.

Bella chortled cheerfully, winking at Dante as she hummed, “Don’t mind me--just dropping off some food. You two enjoy now.”

Dante barely managed to clear his throat, managing a gruff, “Thanks, Bella.”

You nodded, hands pressed to your warms cheeks as you mumbled, “Mhmm...looks great.”

Bella chuckled again, patting your head before sauntering off toward Alex, who was peeking out of a window overlooking the kitchen with unbridled interest in his eyes. Both were absolutely enthralled by this date going on between the two of you, not that Dante could blame them. You two made quite the pair, he a bit scraggly and handsome, rough around the edges. And you... the softest, prettiest looking woman in the shop. Dante wasn’t sure what to make of the whole situation--he definitely felt like he didn’t deserve you, even so early on in this strange relationship in bloom. You were sunshine and flower petals, he was blood and gunpowder. His whole life was the slash of steel through flesh, of demons howling for his death.

There were so many that would hurt you just to get to him.

But seeing your bright eyes, the way your lips curled softly as you lifted a bite of some absolutely beautiful strawberry crepe to your lips...Then the way you looked up at him, eyes gentle with shyness and curls tucked behind your ear--it was enough to wash the worries away, just for that day. Dante was positive that later he would try to talk himself out of it, if only to keep you safe.

But for now…he would forget the worries, and share that moment with you and you alone.


End file.
